tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83072421552829732782019-09-12T03:27:52.331-07:00Bill Doty - EgomaniacUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger508125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-37470721474198481232019-06-17T10:03:00.003-07:002019-06-17T10:06:32.805-07:00Updated Obi Wan Kenobi Vs Darth Vader Fight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i7cJ6hkiI4k/XQfHwqdhszI/AAAAAAAATeY/hR4zBu4FeqUdbxpArZqQoQVNlY4MT0XqwCLcBGAs/s1600/darthvaderfight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i7cJ6hkiI4k/XQfHwqdhszI/AAAAAAAATeY/hR4zBu4FeqUdbxpArZqQoQVNlY4MT0XqwCLcBGAs/s640/darthvaderfight.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />This updated&nbsp;Obi Wan Kenobi Vs Darth Vader might be the greatest thing ever. (Sorry Leeroy Jenkins). Thanks to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCnHn3SzWLLimBjA79vDNTgQ" target="_blank">these guys</a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/to2SMng4u1k" width="560"></iframe><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Especially when compared to the original&nbsp;</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8kpHK4YIwY4" width="560"></iframe><br /></div>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-10321250683261467562019-05-28T12:55:00.002-07:002019-06-04T08:32:05.449-07:00All The Things I've Learned Turning 50<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MkLz70A8UtY/XO2R1FmpcvI/AAAAAAAATcY/bS57fOlQhK0bnfdQLEY21vsBFkl7iyBdgCLcBGAs/s1600/me_prost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MkLz70A8UtY/XO2R1FmpcvI/AAAAAAAATcY/bS57fOlQhK0bnfdQLEY21vsBFkl7iyBdgCLcBGAs/s640/me_prost.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><i><br /></i><i>2019 was the year <b>I turned 50</b>. It sneaks up on you. Last week I was 25. Right before that, 12. I've seen friends become grandparents, and other friends pass away too soon. Currently, I'm neither buying presents for grandkids nor dead. But either way... I'm 50. And with that, comes this knowledge.</i><br /><br />Find your life soundtrack, add to it every day. Try to love everyone as much a random dog shows love to you. It's never too late to switch careers. It's never too late to eat breakfast. Always keep good canned soup in your house. Believe in fate. Trust karma. Question your instincts but know it's probably right. Take as many pictures as you can. Hit happy hours. Don't drink cheap whiskey. When you move out, buy a set of stainless steel pans you'll have most of your life. You can live without a microwave. Drink room temperature water. Don't dye your beard. If you love a T-shirt, you don't have to throw it away... ever, but everything else goes out of fashion. Don't wear shorts and flip flops on a plane. Don't wear jeans to the beach. You can fall in love several times in your life. Life-changing, DNA altering true love only happens once so don't blow it. Heart break never really goes away. Unconditional love doesn't exist, earn someone's love daily. Cats either hate you or tolerate you, don't fall for their crap. Learn just enough guitar to play at a campfire. Try every food once. Go to Burning Man once. Go to Key West twice. Don't worry if you can't get into The Wire, sure it's great but it's dated. Don't be afraid to spend a little more to get the nicer model of something, it'll work better and last longer. Every year try to listen to something new. Listen to Cat Steven's Tea for Tillerman when you feel down. Neil Young's Harvest when you feel good. Present Day Country Music will never be good. Spray down the hot concrete on a summer day barefoot. Feel the warm sun on a winter's day with your eyes closed. Hold hands. Sneak kisses. Let someone know every day you want them. Eat slower. Cook more. Only drink soda at the movies. Quality is more important than quantity with gifts. Make presents with your hands. Obscure wrapping paper is the best, even if it's not wrapping paper. Tip too much. Always have batteries. Have too many spices. Dress up once a month and go out for a nice meal. Always dress up for Halloween. Watch bad movies and make bad jokes. Don't worry if you can't watch Citizen Kane more than once, it's a great film but it just keeps getting more and more boring. Do bad impressions. Quote Monty Python. Avoid Larry the Cable Guy. Hug more, shake hands less. Tell great friends you love them. Let go of friends you've outgrown. Find your own level of spirituality and never let anyone question you on it. Learn how to cook the perfect egg. Don't feel the pressure to join friends in Vegas, it's changed for the worst. Every few years, rewatch all of Frasier. Never feel the need to watch LOST ever again. Wear fun shoes. Let someone else change your oil. Know how to fix your brakes. Keep water bottles in your car. Get at least one tattoo that represents something about you, and not an Asian word. Occasionally get high. Occasionally read a book. Talk to people about both. Journal the good times. Write poems about the bad. Stop saying "hi" to strangers, start saying "hello". Never ride a bike bar. Stop using the word "we" when talking about your favorite team. Spend a lot on your bed, it will change your life. Only buy cage free eggs. Be careful taking eggs from friends who own chickens, the shells are weird. Use art as a second language. Don't listen to morning DJs who laugh at their own jokes. Get a record player and your favorite music on vinyl. Learn to make the perfect Old Fashioned. Sing in the car, always. Never, ever shop at Walmart. Know you can always be a better parent. Know you can always be better to your parents, you'll miss them every day they are gone. Take great care of your teeth. It's okay to admit that The Last Jedi is the worst Star Wars film.<br /><br />And most importantly.<br /><br />You're going to have times in your life where you start over. Sometimes completely from scratch. You'll get through it. Even more so, you'll shine. You'll probably start over more than once. Each time you'll get stronger. Think back to the worst day of your life. A day, or a time when you didn't think you'd make it through, but guess what. You did. Now they are distant memories. You can even laugh at them a bit. Life get difficult. Bad things sneak up. Horrible things jump right in walking path. But you'll pull up your britches and kick them in the nuts.<br /><br />Life is amazing, life is hard. You'll have horrifically down times and moments of extreme glee. Learn to be alone and learn to be in love. You think you know these things but deep down, you don't. Listen to your heart. Listen to your soul. Listen to that tiny voice that tells you everything is going to be okay because no matter what, it will be. That gentle soul who lived to be 103, who on their death bed did nothing but smile joyfully did it. Guess, what... you can too.<br /><br />I'll finish this with more wisdom when I'm 100. I'll read this and scoff at what a young punk of 50 I was.<br /><br /><br /><br />Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-32696526728423237492019-01-14T12:17:00.000-08:002019-01-14T12:17:20.701-08:00I've Started My Own Creative Agency<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dQJwAQYIsVo/XDztALRFh1I/AAAAAAAATNs/CtmWTjzlu8gBA4LPJD9zuDs39TvufTmAQCLcBGAs/s1600/senestre_creative_banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="889" data-original-width="1600" height="354" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dQJwAQYIsVo/XDztALRFh1I/AAAAAAAATNs/CtmWTjzlu8gBA4LPJD9zuDs39TvufTmAQCLcBGAs/s640/senestre_creative_banner.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I've worn many hats at the creative agency I've been working at for the last 5 plus years. During that time I've been offered countless freelance jobs in design, video production, web development and more. I generally turned it down...<div><br /></div><div>Until now.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I found a few other super talented people and started a <a href="https://senestre.com/" target="_blank">Boise Ad Agency</a>. But oddly most of my new clients are out of San Francisco and Seattle thanks to my awesome network of friends.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>With the people I recruited there's nothing we can't do. So the next time you need some amazing creative work done, check out <a href="https://senestre.com/" target="_blank">Senestre</a>.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel I now have the opportunity to do the best work I've ever done. So, I'm gunna.&nbsp;</div>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-31466632886796464502018-11-13T08:56:00.001-08:002018-11-13T08:58:42.217-08:00Making More Stuff<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UyjTJ2gp2Fg/W-sCMulGOOI/AAAAAAAATJw/JanjrP3acqQiAXpM_Um1qElotzpSaHSBACLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-11-13%2Bat%2B9.55.51%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="861" height="363" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UyjTJ2gp2Fg/W-sCMulGOOI/AAAAAAAATJw/JanjrP3acqQiAXpM_Um1qElotzpSaHSBACLcBGAs/s640/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-11-13%2Bat%2B9.55.51%2BAM.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I create a lot of video/commercials for clients. I generally mean to share the work, but often forget to. It's only been two months but here are two spots I created for TSheets.<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="564" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/288369387" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="640"></iframe><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="564" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/285330777" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="640"></iframe></div>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-61702292361938240642018-11-12T10:09:00.000-08:002018-11-12T10:09:37.412-08:00No Luck at Potlucks <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zT0xtMxkosQ/W-m__67hwPI/AAAAAAAATIg/jQSRTJniuFkJcBVZQdSgbwND3TV0oy0WACLcBGAs/s1600/beans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1517" data-original-width="1570" height="616" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zT0xtMxkosQ/W-m__67hwPI/AAAAAAAATIg/jQSRTJniuFkJcBVZQdSgbwND3TV0oy0WACLcBGAs/s640/beans.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />When I was 19, I was a freelance artist for a T-shirt shop. I didn't make much money, I didn't make many friends (it was rather competitive), I didn't make many shirts.<br /><br />But it was easily one of the biggest learning experiences of my life.<br /><br />I believe that anyone who eventually enters a stage of adulthood wishes that during their youth there was a class called "Adulting" on the curriculum. How to pay taxes, how to open a checking account, how to eat like a real person. I am in my 40s and I still squeak by today. I do okay... but I squeak.<br /><br />Back in the T-Shirt illustrating slave-shop illustrating days, I shared a house with 2 other friends, I drove a car that I barely paid for with cash, I attempted to go to school part-time with books I borrowed from friends because I was incapable of buying them on my own. I drank Dr. Pepper and ate M&amp;M's for every meals because I didn't own pans or a microwave. I could barely feed myself so imagine when I learned I needed to contribute to a potluck that was feeding 50some other people.<br /><br />It was a list on a board. "Employee Potluck" followed by a lengthy food list with many, many names next to them. Some of them were pretty elaborate.<br /><br />BBQ Chicken<br />Potato Salad<br />Tiramisu<br /><br />Seriously?&nbsp;Tiramisu? What sort of sadist would ask a group of misfits to being such a complicated dessert that even today I couldn't tell you a single ingredient to.<br /><br />Most of the items were taken. Some were crazy easy like: Plastic forks, cups, water.<br /><br />Water? I can do water all day.<br /><br />Baked Beans. No one has jumped at the opportunity to bring baked beans. It's one thing, right? Beans, baked!<br /><br />Without hesitation I scribbled my name down. I dodged a bit of a baking bullet. I grabbed one of the last easy items on the list.<br /><br />I had a few days before the potluck so I didn't do much prep-work other than remind myself to go to the store and pick them up. The day of the event I decided was a good time. I had a few hours, I was feeling good. I got in my shitty car and drove to Costco with my roommate who I was forcing to tag along for two reasons. I didn't really wish to talk to the people I worked with, and his Dad gave him a Costco card, an item I didn't have.<br /><br />We walked in and purchased two very large cans of Baked Beans. That couldn't have been any easier. We threw them in the back seat and made our way to the beach. We were actually a bit early, that was rather adult of me.<br /><br />We walked over and placed the two large cans of beans on the table, stood a little taller as we eyed our prize. Beans for everyone.<br /><br />We drank punch, kicked sand, said hi to the few people we could tolerate and thought that maybe this wasn't going to be such a crappy even anymore. Then I heard from the table.<br /><br />"What idiot brought cans of beans?"<br /><br />I turned to see one of the Creative Directors, essentially my boss, holding a can of beans in awe.<br /><br />"Who brings a can of unopened beans to a party? Are we supposed to open them with our teeth?"<br /><br />I was a fool. For two reason. First off, it never once occurred to me to physically open them. I mean, if I did... then what? I didn't own a pan to place them in. The second reason I was a fool? I said "That was me."<br /><br />I was then explained to that one simply doesn't just bring a can of beans. You purchase them, take them home, place them in a dish and warm them up. You top them off with a nice layer of foil to keep them warm.<br /><br />That hadn't even crossed my mind. But I should let you know, I did actually own a can opener, I wasn't a caveman.<br /><br />I asked if anyone had a can opener, one of the artist's husbands reached in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys.<br /><br />"I do", as he revealed a very rusty, Army surplus can opener on his key chain. He proudly handed it to me and stared as I realized this was my job.<br /><br />After the 15 minute learning curve of how it worked, I slowly exposed the beans as I mixed in shards of metal and a little blood.<br /><br />It was a tough learning curve figuring that out.<br /><br />45 minutes later, one can was open. I figured I'd hold off on the other until everyone ate the spoils.<br /><br />LET THE POTLUCK BEGIN!!!!<br /><br />All artists, all hungry artists, dug in. Chicken went fast, there was baked mac that might as well have been heroin. The person who said they'd bring Tiramisu never even showed up. You'd think they'd be the butt of the potluck jokes.<br /><br />Nope, it was still me. No one was eating my beans. But not because they didn't look tasty with those glittering pieces of metal. They didn't have a spoon. I walked the table and manage to steal the baked mac utensil. It looked lonely. I jammed it in the beans.<br /><br />Still, no takers. I assumed perhaps it was the fact that no one wanted to break the seal. I decided to take the spoon and get as large of a spoonful that I could, then flick it off towards the bushes. My aim was true. I then stood by the beans and waited. I thought to even ask if table-goers wanted any. But I didn't wanna to seem pushy.<br /><br />End of pot lock, no go. Not a single person ate my beans. But should I be sad? The reality its no. I mean, I now own two giant cans of beans. I'm going to eat like a farty king for a week. I grabbed my beans and headed to my car. I ask my roommate to place them between his legs and we head home. I didn't learn until later that twice during the ride home, the open can tipped over, leave stray beans and a bit of juice on my floor. A smell that was a pleasant reminder for the next few months of the event. I placed beans in my fridge and resumed life.<br /><br />A few days later I learned a new adult lesson. Don't leave exposed food in your fridge, that you intend to eat, for several days in your fridge.<br /><br />This month my company is planning a Thanksgiving Pot Luck. How has life changed? I plan to take the toughest thing on the list, and nail it.<br /><br />And this time, remember a spoon.<br /><br /><br />Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-31167447016364521022018-09-12T13:53:00.002-07:002018-12-18T20:00:57.582-08:00Went Rafting Down The Middle Fork of the Salmon River...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X4R4fLy2VMY/W5l8nYMAfvI/AAAAAAAATGs/QCd3sYP3FhU8yL0dHp4oySxflB6rHrdwgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-09-12%2Bat%2B2.51.07%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="527" data-original-width="943" height="356" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X4R4fLy2VMY/W5l8nYMAfvI/AAAAAAAATGs/QCd3sYP3FhU8yL0dHp4oySxflB6rHrdwgCLcBGAs/s640/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-09-12%2Bat%2B2.51.07%2BPM.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />... and I made it into a little video from our <a href="http://senestre.com/" target="_blank">Boise Ad Agency</a><br /><br />4 days with water and a bit of glamping. A work trip that spoiled us all. Looking forward to next year.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/289375158" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="640"></iframe> </div><br />Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-34089916771931507772018-08-20T09:05:00.002-07:002018-08-20T09:05:30.106-07:005 Videos That Will Fix Any Bad Mood You're In <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--Zwq1lzy8Mg/W3rmqyXBt7I/AAAAAAAATFY/GZDyry7cR10viK_BvuFpYDByF_Uj5-OhwCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-20%2Bat%2B10.04.27%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="310" data-original-width="441" height="448" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--Zwq1lzy8Mg/W3rmqyXBt7I/AAAAAAAATFY/GZDyry7cR10viK_BvuFpYDByF_Uj5-OhwCLcBGAs/s640/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-20%2Bat%2B10.04.27%2BAM.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />There are videos on the interwebs that undoubtably will change my mood to gooder any moment of the day. Is it fair to NOT share them with the World? Come back anytime you can when you're down... smile... then share them with the rest of the sad society.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Night Rider Banjo </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/O4bmWPM_LWU" width="560"></iframe> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Puppet Tom Sawyer </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9x4bfHllX2A" width="560"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ode to Steve Irwin </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/tE1HDSipRxU" width="560"></iframe> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Weezer Students Go Bad </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JSKpsKMTxA8" width="560"></iframe> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ode To Youtube (yes, I made this)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/p6t1AKyras4" width="560"></iframe></div>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-63470718937881335642018-08-07T10:28:00.001-07:002018-08-07T10:28:56.210-07:00My Favorite Amazon Reviews For My Movie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NRxsq7nseX0/W2nVaRdLSzI/AAAAAAAATB4/BWJLpyBAd8gUD8tYKMar8OEmn-ugDQGFwCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B11.22.24%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="255" data-original-width="255" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NRxsq7nseX0/W2nVaRdLSzI/AAAAAAAATB4/BWJLpyBAd8gUD8tYKMar8OEmn-ugDQGFwCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B11.22.24%2BAM.png" /></a></div><br />A few years back I took 9 months to travel a few states and film a ghost documentary. It sparked from my odd interest in ghost shows, and my desire to either expose them for the fraudulent productions they are, or figure out if ghosts really even existed.<br /><br />Spoiler alert: I don't believe in ghosts.<br /><br />It wasn't your typical <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YlSXGtky8E&amp;t=1s" target="_blank">ghost documentary</a>. First off, it was all real. I didn't fake anything, I didn't represent anything in any fashion to sway your opinions. It was all as it happened.<br /><br />Second is, I made it funny. I'm technically a horrific show off so that came across in the filming. It was light hearted and honest. Not what you generally get in a ghost doc.<br /><br />So with that, I've had a few mixed reviews. In most part, people really loved the film. <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ghostumentary-Bill-Doty/dp/B01DWQOZUE/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_product_top?ie=UTF8" target="_blank">Ghostumentary sits on Amazon Prime</a>&nbsp;with 3.5 starts out of 5. Out of the 95 reviews, 46% gave it 5 stars. Only 17% gave it 1 star.<br /><br />I've given Amazon reviews before. If I feel betrayed by a product, I'm going to let the seller know. If the product changed my life for the better, even in the slightest way, I'm going to scream it from the 5 star soap box they offer. I don't think I'd make much of an effort for a body wash that was "just okay". It did its job and I don't feel the need to pat it on the back.<br /><br />But not all people are like me. Some people really want to be heard. And after then watch Ghostumentary, they really REALLY want to be heard.<br /><br />Here are some of my favorite <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ghostumentary-Bill-Doty/product-reviews/B01DWQOZUE/ref=cm_cr_dp_see_all_btm?ie=UTF8&amp;showViewpoints=1&amp;sortBy=recent" target="_blank">Ghostumentary reviews</a>.<br /><br />Let's start slow, and with the most recent review.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xhhGEuP3_tY/W2nMe-eFckI/AAAAAAAATAU/hdJBqM85dZMTH_EZseI5QTCQR3XhEy5PgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.42.02%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="148" data-original-width="237" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xhhGEuP3_tY/W2nMe-eFckI/AAAAAAAATAU/hdJBqM85dZMTH_EZseI5QTCQR3XhEy5PgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.42.02%2BAM.png" /></a></div>It's actually a bit of a compliment for someone to go that far out of their way just to give you a "meh". So this one actually makes me a little happy. She doesn't have time to use capitals, but time for a review. And also, if what we did was normal to her... I want her life.<br /><br />Then there's this.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L9JLz2WYq5o/W2nNvefOQfI/AAAAAAAATAg/H8wBFiNQdCs30Og6UkiT18fqRDujxtS8wCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.47.31%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="241" data-original-width="684" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L9JLz2WYq5o/W2nNvefOQfI/AAAAAAAATAg/H8wBFiNQdCs30Og6UkiT18fqRDujxtS8wCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.47.31%2BAM.png" /></a></div>Ghost dick. Someone who would so elegantly write a poor review of my film only to title it, Ghost Dick. Who is this person? How do you make this person happy? What other types of things have they reviewed?<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MBRHqx7O7sQ/W2nOVmbYocI/AAAAAAAATAo/uzSAzu6so9wsOI5G25zyLZW8Q8KqSXlYgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.48.21%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="514" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MBRHqx7O7sQ/W2nOVmbYocI/AAAAAAAATAo/uzSAzu6so9wsOI5G25zyLZW8Q8KqSXlYgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.48.21%2BAM.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our friend Mark Melchior is a little more fickle that I assumed he might be. If our film was just good enough for him, we wouldn't have received 5 stars. I mean, even if it works, it's not good enough.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lh1wivnkJcA/W2nO5OTkjKI/AAAAAAAATAw/lXFEeZEOgdAL6Gkt971OmUn66B-wXimdQCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.48.55%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="517" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Lh1wivnkJcA/W2nO5OTkjKI/AAAAAAAATAw/lXFEeZEOgdAL6Gkt971OmUn66B-wXimdQCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.48.55%2BAM.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Even if our movie was "Always good" we'd be short of that glorious 5th star. What does one have to to do to get a high score with this guy?&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LNOn2N4Zi4k/W2nPJF8SR6I/AAAAAAAATA0/7SQqtdoqXCgmSAeukM3LV1d4AEN8tOPxwCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.49.15%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="274" data-original-width="510" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LNOn2N4Zi4k/W2nPJF8SR6I/AAAAAAAATA0/7SQqtdoqXCgmSAeukM3LV1d4AEN8tOPxwCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.49.15%2BAM.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There ya go. Sweet and smooth. My next movie has one goal now. To be sweet and smooth. Then I'm sending a screener to his house for my first reviews. Signed, Ghost Dick.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's the second review that referred to us as "narcissistic".</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LzN7wud1N0o/W2nQHD3ad7I/AAAAAAAATBE/gt34gg6iFB05S7sL-8NCdSNuOeH35VCbACLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.58.25%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="374" data-original-width="668" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LzN7wud1N0o/W2nQHD3ad7I/AAAAAAAATBE/gt34gg6iFB05S7sL-8NCdSNuOeH35VCbACLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B10.58.25%2BAM.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But THEN calls us "Grown Ups" so this is actually one of my favorite views. My favorite part of this is "I do not believe in ghosts, but I am fascinated by ghost stories as exercises in the human imagination." This is why I did Ghostumentary. This was me 3 years ago. This was probably the review I would have left. Sure, I got 2 stars but a feel this person was truly my audience and I evoked enough emotion in this person that they needed to speak out. So though I seem to mock, I honestly tip my hat and say "I get it".&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But not everyone cared about the core filmmakers.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x1gSDB9XJEY/W2nRkybIz0I/AAAAAAAATBQ/9t5mY2NQlbM2c-4gu4w0vHD35JlIcfmjgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B11.05.39%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="401" data-original-width="686" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x1gSDB9XJEY/W2nRkybIz0I/AAAAAAAATBQ/9t5mY2NQlbM2c-4gu4w0vHD35JlIcfmjgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B11.05.39%2BAM.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Because my son, who was in the movie for 20 minutes, stole the show. But I gotta admit, he really did.<br /><br />But more about us.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QSJcMHoaOd4/W2nSMdZUvFI/AAAAAAAATBY/OP5ynKpviP0ZJaBEe3EFmSwkq8cFlKubgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B11.08.25%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="187" data-original-width="551" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QSJcMHoaOd4/W2nSMdZUvFI/AAAAAAAATBY/OP5ynKpviP0ZJaBEe3EFmSwkq8cFlKubgCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B11.08.25%2BAM.png" /></a></div>How dare you call this a "mockumentary"!<br /><br />But sometimes they just really hate me.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GrQZnNiGrrI/W2nSnfrwSsI/AAAAAAAATBg/a2-Udn-zfmobbBm039ljuUHL0YmIWp9NACLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B11.10.15%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="289" data-original-width="662" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GrQZnNiGrrI/W2nSnfrwSsI/AAAAAAAATBg/a2-Udn-zfmobbBm039ljuUHL0YmIWp9NACLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B11.10.15%2BAM.png" /></a></div>This was one of my first, written out, bad reviews. Prior to this I got a bunch of "Dumbs" or "Mehs". This was the first one to specifically call me out. Not only did it call me out, it labeled me as the reason they hated the movie. I reached out from their TV and bunch them in their brains. I read further to learn that they'd watch a sequel if I recast myself. "Now play the part of Bill Doty, Brad Pitt." Then I got to the bottom. It all made sense. It was date night and I ruined it. I cock-blocked via video-on-demand. For this, I'm sorry. I think I owe you a bottle of wine, and a pizza.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u-7c0cH6fJU/W2nTrzOmsSI/AAAAAAAATBs/FZV-Kgq5N2sD5FqtiGGd5BrmqS-IN_-GwCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B11.15.08%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="518" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u-7c0cH6fJU/W2nTrzOmsSI/AAAAAAAATBs/FZV-Kgq5N2sD5FqtiGGd5BrmqS-IN_-GwCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-08-07%2Bat%2B11.15.08%2BAM.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good news is, she really dug those Leopard Ears.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like I said, most reviews are terrific. Many loved the movie, us, and what they learned. Some have given one star, one word reviews. People still watch it every day and occasionally reach out to me online to let me know they enjoyed it.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was an amazing experience and I'd do it again. Oh yeah, I am. But once a week I still go online and check out the reviews. I inhale them and think about how to make a better movie. Hopefully next time, I'm reading your review.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just think of something better than Ghost Dick.&nbsp;</div><br />Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-25858127704736431052018-07-03T08:17:00.000-07:002018-08-20T14:02:29.867-07:00I'm A Volkswagen Bus Away From Having The Perfect Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tR63wyg3Hu4/WzuR9C3UvEI/AAAAAAAAS54/8iFmrshlIcQeoGCNjSG3alGY9WVuIFIPwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="540" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tR63wyg3Hu4/WzuR9C3UvEI/AAAAAAAAS54/8iFmrshlIcQeoGCNjSG3alGY9WVuIFIPwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1639.JPG" /></a></div><br />I've gone through many MANY transitions in my life. I've been married living in suburbs to a single guy living a block from the ocean in a tiny bungalow. Each time I've had my big chunks of happiness and moments of regrets.<br /><br />I've always been a bit of the grass is greener viewer. But I never really knew who had the best lawn.<br /><br />My lawn, this moment is pretty fucking great.<br /><br />It took almost half a century to discover that looking at the past, and wishing I could relive it again is blowing every minute that I'm living right now. In a decade I could look back at this moment and realize that this was the best time of my life, and I wasted it focusing on another.<br /><br />Right now, this second, is the best moment of my life.<br /><br />Wait, no... this second.<br /><br />Now this one.<br /><br />This.<br /><br />I love my kids, I love my job, I love my tiny 100 year old apartment dead-center of downtown, I love my car I never drive because I live 2 blocks from my job, I love my artistic friends, I love my every-growing record collection, I love that every day I rebuild my life one kitchen utensil at a time, I love all my creative side projects, I love my salt and pepper beard, I love that I can't throw my old converse away, I love my cardigans, I love my old gaming systems I hardly play anymore, I love that I can make the perfect mixtape for any occasion, I love the stupid Star Wars game I wake up every day and play on my iPhone, I love my 60 year old cameras found film for, I love finding new music and introducing friends to the old stuff, I love the loves I lost and the time I had with them, I love that I never have food in my house and I can eat a handful of Goldfish for dinner, I love my new couch, I love my throne desk chair that my ex hated with a passion, I love binge watching 90s television, I love documentaries on weird murders.<br /><br />I love the hot Sun on a cold and and realizing I have the perfect life.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-79296834170140497152018-05-03T07:34:00.001-07:002018-10-15T07:19:32.104-07:00Letting Go Of Grudges <span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , &quot;.sfnstext-regular&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YO5hmj5SQoQ/Wusdx26mINI/AAAAAAAASp8/JVihTm8LTCQxVMR3LUi2iBVD7b-3QYd-gCLcBGAs/s1600/animalsfighting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="353" data-original-width="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YO5hmj5SQoQ/Wusdx26mINI/AAAAAAAASp8/JVihTm8LTCQxVMR3LUi2iBVD7b-3QYd-gCLcBGAs/s1600/animalsfighting.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , &quot;.sfnstext-regular&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , &quot;.sfnstext-regular&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">8 months ago I got into a horrible fight with a great friend. The friendship tragically ended and I had nothing but feelings of anger towards him. Last night as I was sitting at a patio at a restaurant he walked by, we both locked eyes and didn't look away. Instinctively I said "Hi", he stopped and we talked for about 8 seconds before he said "Hold on", followed by him entering the patio I was at. I stood up and we immediately embraced, mumbled into each other's shoulders that we were sorry, we missed one another and we both loved each other. After letting go talked like nothing ever happened. I told him a quick, related story about a situation he was attached to, he laughed and then he left. I took a giant breath, I smiled and I felt a foot taller. I realize one of my biggest faults is holding grudges. I also realized how great they are to let go of. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , &quot;.sfnstext-regular&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , &quot;.sfnstext-regular&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I really hope I can start doing that more. </span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , &quot;.sfnstext-regular&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: , , , &quot;.sfnstext-regular&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Side note: Further attempts to contact him made me realize he, unfortunately, is tightly holding on to his grudge. </span></div></div>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-6739306011260617672018-04-24T08:55:00.001-07:002018-04-24T08:55:24.243-07:00Twitter Locked My Account For Being Hateful To The Most Hateful Man On Twitter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VqtGCez6AdA/Wt9S6ayWXjI/AAAAAAAASpE/trQnex20sJoRgx1COh-Z0pOIVAxyzrzDQCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-04-24%2Bat%2B9.47.51%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="687" data-original-width="644" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VqtGCez6AdA/Wt9S6ayWXjI/AAAAAAAASpE/trQnex20sJoRgx1COh-Z0pOIVAxyzrzDQCLcBGAs/s640/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-04-24%2Bat%2B9.47.51%2BAM.png" width="598" /></a></div>Was what I said mean? Oh hellz yes. But... what is more cruel that what this <a href="https://twitter.com/realdonaldtrump" target="_blank">idiot</a> say every day on Twitter? Hellz no. So, please Trump. Kill yourself. I'm begging you to do so.Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-91902935454085202022018-04-23T09:32:00.001-07:002018-04-23T09:32:11.943-07:00All My Fcked Up Friends Has A Website<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HnOrDq0J7sY/Wt4KNznR2cI/AAAAAAAASo0/QCkh9p0nq6ESjDITKLXr6ldW_Eyr6pxNQCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-04-23%2Bat%2B10.30.22%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="907" data-original-width="1145" height="505" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HnOrDq0J7sY/Wt4KNznR2cI/AAAAAAAASo0/QCkh9p0nq6ESjDITKLXr6ldW_Eyr6pxNQCLcBGAs/s640/Screen%2BShot%2B2018-04-23%2Bat%2B10.30.22%2BAM.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Check out all the episodes on all the formats and find out bitchen things for <a href="https://www.allmyfckedupfriends.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"><b>All My Fcked Up Friends</b></span></a></div>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-50436061088037765052018-03-30T13:40:00.004-07:002018-04-23T13:03:45.080-07:00All My Fcked Up Friends<div style="text-align: center;">I have a new live show/podcast starting next week. If you all love me, or kinda like me, you'll come.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YeE9htsnjrI/Wr6gt8KhjpI/AAAAAAAASjc/9-oa4dAwHMQTrrld2hZrNwCDNJ0GK71LQCLcBGAs/s1600/AMFUFposter.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="792" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YeE9htsnjrI/Wr6gt8KhjpI/AAAAAAAASjc/9-oa4dAwHMQTrrld2hZrNwCDNJ0GK71LQCLcBGAs/s1600/AMFUFposter.png" /></a></div><br />Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-68812132543210720482017-10-16T13:40:00.005-07:002018-11-16T10:43:10.056-08:00#anustart<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PuA9tVbTG68/WeUYBwf4gwI/AAAAAAAARtk/-1R0lRXoBvc3oXdmagSRd0MEqPHT0wFwQCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2017-10-16%2Bat%2B2.34.38%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="468" data-original-width="572" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PuA9tVbTG68/WeUYBwf4gwI/AAAAAAAARtk/-1R0lRXoBvc3oXdmagSRd0MEqPHT0wFwQCLcBGAs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2017-10-16%2Bat%2B2.34.38%2BPM.png" /></a></div><br />I've recently ended a 3 plus year relationship. It was easy to pinpoint the reasons why, hard to figure out why it ended so abruptly ended. A Friday conversation, asking why we suddenly were different to each other. Calling a bluff. Then living in the guest room. Hotel next. <br /><br />New apartment, new furnishings, new life. <br /><br />The break up isn't really what I want to talk about. The emotions there are roller coaster off the tracks. Good days, bad days, really bad days, less really bad days. <br /><br />Very, very good days. <br /><br />I want to talk about starting over. And not with material belongs. I'm filling up an apartment with new furniture, that's just the math of a break up. I want to talk about the emotional starting over. <br /><br />A new relationship. <br /><br /><i>Gross, starting all over again. </i><br /><br />The best analogy I can voice is that of an 100,000 word essay. One you've been writing for over 3 years. You've done hundred of hours of research. You've nailed the introductions. Put your heart into the thesis statement. Hours and hours of proofing. Nailed the supporting specific points and developed a full body paragraph all about your life. <br /><br />And right in the middle of it, the power shuts off, document lost. <br /><br />You realized you never saved it. You didn't need to. I mean, what were the odds of this just vanishing without a trace? This was going to be on your screen forever. <br /><br />And now it's lost. <br /><br />So you lean back in your chair and wonder if you have the energy, and the heart, to start all over. Do you have the emotional bandwidth to do all this again? From the first word on. All those hours spent typing away. <br /><br />Or do you take an Incomplete and fail the course.<br /><br />So there's the question I just have yet to find the answer for. And I'm guessing there isn't a course that's going to help me with the answer either.<br /><br />Stupid heart.<br /><br /><br />The best part now is <a href="https://www.billdoty.com/2018/11/being-forever-bullied-by-ex.html" target="_blank">Emilee Duncan</a> is now stalking me. <a href="https://www.billdoty.com/2018/11/being-forever-bullied-by-ex.html" target="_blank">Read this.&nbsp;</a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-67711580624118874062017-09-06T09:25:00.004-07:002017-09-06T09:25:59.676-07:00My Giant Head Getting More Giant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E6JWcec1cCw/WbAhdXT6owI/AAAAAAAARfY/d6T4buMK0PgTa2S-skToa1c9WFLs3PrGgCLcBGAs/s1600/bill.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="681" height="404" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E6JWcec1cCw/WbAhdXT6owI/AAAAAAAARfY/d6T4buMK0PgTa2S-skToa1c9WFLs3PrGgCLcBGAs/s640/bill.png" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Each year I get in front of the camera for a client as I interview Boise State Football players. The videos air at home games on the Jumbotron. Making my giant head, morerer gianterer. Each year the players are great, a lot of fun and really help make it entertaining. Here's the first video of the season.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6uTqF1XR6lQ" width="560"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sadly, the next day... the mustache was gone.&nbsp;</div>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-28072072769693353162017-05-26T14:43:00.002-07:002017-05-26T14:43:54.042-07:00Getting My First TattooAbout a decade ago I had a dream about a Tattoo. It was the skeleton of my own arm attached to a quill pen. It was writing the word <a href="https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Senestre" target="_blank">SENESTRE</a>. I drew it that day and set it on a shelf. 10 years later I still wanted it, and finally got it.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-olVPa6BvoMg/WSigyD6Da0I/AAAAAAAARZs/-hQNkSiwEtQFp4WsYpGdwUD2BekmRNfZQCLcB/s1600/18664233_10154307000031256_3983462634571424943_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-olVPa6BvoMg/WSigyD6Da0I/AAAAAAAARZs/-hQNkSiwEtQFp4WsYpGdwUD2BekmRNfZQCLcB/s400/18664233_10154307000031256_3983462634571424943_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skeleton and Quill Tattoo</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br />Side note. Though I left off the word, Senestre ended up being the name of my production company.<br /><br />The work was done by <a href="https://www.resurrected208.com/donna" target="_blank">Idaho's Best Tattoo Artist</a> Donna CarterBill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-86277223945890529892017-05-19T15:33:00.002-07:002017-05-19T15:45:37.841-07:00A Crater, A Giant Tree, A Few Double Doubles, and an Engagement<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H2FBl_lXFt8/WQAcWrJ5P7I/AAAAAAAARXU/7i8ygnAG8wwqHlNOJ6sroZ6hZQMzWWcFgCKgB/s1600/IMG_3870.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H2FBl_lXFt8/WQAcWrJ5P7I/AAAAAAAARXU/7i8ygnAG8wwqHlNOJ6sroZ6hZQMzWWcFgCKgB/s640/IMG_3870.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">My girlfriend and I needed a quick vacation. Not an extended weekend but a whole week away from the house and exploring new things. We opened up Google Maps and pointed out every place within 1500 miles that we've wanted to see. Turns out she's never seen the Grand Canyon, neither of us had to seen the Natural Bridges in Utah. It had been 5 years since I rode the Pirates of the Caribbean and I've never seen Crater Lake.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">There was a blip on the map where neither of us had ever been and that was the Meteor Crater in Arizona. It wasn't on the way to anything, it was going to add a day to our trip, but it was a giant hole in the ground caused by a giant piece of space metal. I found out this was on Emilee's bucket list. We're there.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Day one: Natural Bridges Park. We decided to spend 4 nights camping, 3 nights in hotels and two nights with friends. Thursday night was a camp night. We headed straight to Natural Bridges Park in Southeastern Utah. I knew very little about it. It was always high on the list for places for Emilee to visit. About 50 miles before hitting the parking we decided it was late and dark enough to find a campground and enter the gate in the morning. We blindly found a campsite and went to sleep. We had no idea of the beauty surrounding us when we'd wake</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FKcs9C2liEs/WQAXW068OWI/AAAAAAAARVQ/eKfNqv5cToExybZ1O3t_8-8hVCs0j4TKACKgB/s1600/IMG_2948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FKcs9C2liEs/WQAXW068OWI/AAAAAAAARVQ/eKfNqv5cToExybZ1O3t_8-8hVCs0j4TKACKgB/s320/IMG_2948.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So that was nifty. We were all alone out in the vast red rocks. The first full day of our trip was off to a great start. I threw on a hat and drove us to the park. It was small, out of the way, and very hidden. There was only one other couple with us in the visitor center as they told us it was the busy season. We rented one of the 9 available camping spots, bought a few trinkets and headed down the road.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We made the 9 mile looping drive and couldn't wait to journey down towards the bridges. Three of them to be precise. Named "Kachina," "Owachomo" and "Sipapu" in honor of the Native Americans&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">that once made this area their home. And by that I mean until we, stupid white people, kicked them off and probably murdered a majority of them.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's a 9 mile hike to hit each bridge. Very, VERY worth it. And we were VERY, VERY not geared up to do it. I was wearing Vans, Emilee had her purse and a Starbucks cups and we ventured on.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QBa7PaENAiA/WQAZkc9J6eI/AAAAAAAARW8/-ezntHnooo4jF_PL-CrHsCJM6F3cWHRVACKgB/s1600/IMG_3027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QBa7PaENAiA/WQAZkc9J6eI/AAAAAAAARW8/-ezntHnooo4jF_PL-CrHsCJM6F3cWHRVACKgB/s320/IMG_3027.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kachina</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KGnm482Nh0w/WQAZkbBZDlI/AAAAAAAARW8/HFeTDFdE3QE1MthcPh5-rgQndyzDhfRzQCKgB/s320/IMG_3141.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Owachomo</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KGnm482Nh0w/WQAZkbBZDlI/AAAAAAAARW8/HFeTDFdE3QE1MthcPh5-rgQndyzDhfRzQCKgB/s1600/IMG_3141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KGnm482Nh0w/WQAZkbBZDlI/AAAAAAAARW8/HFeTDFdE3QE1MthcPh5-rgQndyzDhfRzQCKgB/s1600/IMG_3141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ORQMusLA9Ig/WQAZkSpylWI/AAAAAAAARW8/-fFPGxSBbuwVlldtaHvVpJBoKvJ34zotQCKgB/s1600/IMG_3196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ORQMusLA9Ig/WQAZkSpylWI/AAAAAAAARW8/-fFPGxSBbuwVlldtaHvVpJBoKvJ34zotQCKgB/s320/IMG_3196.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sipapu</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xi5INythzUM/WQAZkdM2IzI/AAAAAAAARW8/CM-kJyEUV5IpNxpi4Wp57iSz21zS9tMfQCKgB/s1600/IMG_3087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xi5INythzUM/WQAZkdM2IzI/AAAAAAAARW8/CM-kJyEUV5IpNxpi4Wp57iSz21zS9tMfQCKgB/s320/IMG_3087.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Native American ruins and standing this close to where the dinosaurs roamed was pretty fricken amazeballs.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After we headed back to camp and prepared to gaze at the stars. Natural Bridges Monument is a Dark Skies park. Because there are no cities nearby you can see stars like crazy. We light a fire and barely looked down. It was an amazing night.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Day 3: Arizona Crater.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Today was a special day. I only knew why. But I didn't know what was completely ahead of us. We woke up early, packed up camp and headed to Arizona to find the big-ass crater in the middle of it. The route was gorgeous.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Emilee looks again and said "Forrest Gump!", so we pulled over and did this.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EMQZABzgCIA/WR86HjdYWFI/AAAAAAAARYU/ON-KBl8xJrYzPKN-H5FPI_ScC6Cz5tYjgCLcB/s1600/17264363_10212498458476487_3673728625563074355_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EMQZABzgCIA/WR86HjdYWFI/AAAAAAAARYU/ON-KBl8xJrYzPKN-H5FPI_ScC6Cz5tYjgCLcB/s320/17264363_10212498458476487_3673728625563074355_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And saw this.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rcH6TzffdhE/WR86O6MvGGI/AAAAAAAARYY/TrUxCzCxqk0ppVd-bhckwtgEhyoCCrf1QCLcB/s1600/blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rcH6TzffdhE/WR86O6MvGGI/AAAAAAAARYY/TrUxCzCxqk0ppVd-bhckwtgEhyoCCrf1QCLcB/s320/blog.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Then had a giant piece of metal came crashing to my car from oncoming traffic, that kinda almost killed me.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4nxGZuJodnE/WQAcWikCVSI/AAAAAAAARXU/PIdpC0msOe0hkS3DzLbkDTziZsiSUPU0ACKgB/s1600/IMG_3268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4nxGZuJodnE/WQAcWikCVSI/AAAAAAAARXU/PIdpC0msOe0hkS3DzLbkDTziZsiSUPU0ACKgB/s320/IMG_3268.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We pulled the gentlemen over and after 90 minutes of calling insurance and talking to a police officer, Emilee pointed out that we might not make the crater. This wasn't an option. I mean, this was where I was going to propose. (Oh yeah, did I mention that?) I had the fake brochure made, ring was in my pocket, speech was ready. It was all set the crater. So I kicked it in to high gear...&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qeKQIabkW4o/WQAcWuXe7II/AAAAAAAARXU/4WNfQdmN78IE22ta--u1YVEO5-4H1WKCwCKgB/s1600/IMG_3326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qeKQIabkW4o/WQAcWuXe7II/AAAAAAAARXU/4WNfQdmN78IE22ta--u1YVEO5-4H1WKCwCKgB/s320/IMG_3326.JPG" width="256" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">but stopped for a minute to check out dinosaur tracks...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VFynCh7dJ4Y/WR87FcdHcII/AAAAAAAARYc/nwPE9eK_gBYX60U92-R4lnhNsrOeeNGJwCLcB/s1600/IMG_3293.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VFynCh7dJ4Y/WR87FcdHcII/AAAAAAAARYc/nwPE9eK_gBYX60U92-R4lnhNsrOeeNGJwCLcB/s320/IMG_3293.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and made it in time to propose. <b>She said yes</b>.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Day 4: Now off to the Grand Canyon.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sJUBYaCiOl0/WQAcWluNThI/AAAAAAAARXU/P9RLBcNoIFIfdNNeKZbKOywrbLYiPPRBgCKgB/s1600/IMG_3325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sJUBYaCiOl0/WQAcWluNThI/AAAAAAAARXU/P9RLBcNoIFIfdNNeKZbKOywrbLYiPPRBgCKgB/s320/IMG_3325.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I will tell you, if you ever get a chance to visit the Grand Canyon during a sunrise it would easily change you life a little. Do it.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We spend a good part of the day walking the edge, learning about the area and figuring out which Dinosaur age we'd like to live in the most.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now off to LA.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Day 5: This was my homeland and it was hard to figure out all we'd see and who we'd visit.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M04A0O4jhcA/WQAcWkMR-KI/AAAAAAAARXU/9tyZnQ4kVkkkqwiHWUkNaXmORdCp6jsewCKgB/s1600/IMG_3329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M04A0O4jhcA/WQAcWkMR-KI/AAAAAAAARXU/9tyZnQ4kVkkkqwiHWUkNaXmORdCp6jsewCKgB/s320/IMG_3329.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Clearly Disney land was on the table,&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lAn8vr2ges0/WQAcWuSom5I/AAAAAAAARXU/3blH5eq8ypgS1iySxVP_bzb7JZweoVVBwCKgB/s1600/IMG_3345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lAn8vr2ges0/WQAcWuSom5I/AAAAAAAARXU/3blH5eq8ypgS1iySxVP_bzb7JZweoVVBwCKgB/s320/IMG_3345.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">so Emilee could ride Space Mountain over and over.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-chgifR6DfnA/WQAcWi3-TjI/AAAAAAAARXU/aiyOK54SvFMn-cQJG6NlSgmryM2fWpjaQCKgB/s1600/IMG_3390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-chgifR6DfnA/WQAcWi3-TjI/AAAAAAAARXU/aiyOK54SvFMn-cQJG6NlSgmryM2fWpjaQCKgB/s320/IMG_3390.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And the beach.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eJb6kZChNsU/WQAcWpVAfhI/AAAAAAAARXU/VMCbVhPEYjYqcM4wMTKezdI0lJ7Jz13MQCKgB/s1600/IMG_3400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eJb6kZChNsU/WQAcWpVAfhI/AAAAAAAARXU/VMCbVhPEYjYqcM4wMTKezdI0lJ7Jz13MQCKgB/s320/IMG_3400.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And my super great friends and only family member I like. &nbsp;Then off to San Francisco.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mgZwXihY_5I/WQAcWpvggzI/AAAAAAAARXU/cqcqGaXjiEgd_zlSlfPd2nosCrV9YLsmACKgB/s1600/IMG_3431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mgZwXihY_5I/WQAcWpvggzI/AAAAAAAARXU/cqcqGaXjiEgd_zlSlfPd2nosCrV9YLsmACKgB/s320/IMG_3431.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Day 8: SF decided we had seen too much sun and decided to pour.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vLuunfvkXo0/WQAcWqMIHxI/AAAAAAAARXU/awfaB8zoNBAVEUwGP7u3ES5GB5osbEeDACKgB/s1600/IMG_3463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vLuunfvkXo0/WQAcWqMIHxI/AAAAAAAARXU/awfaB8zoNBAVEUwGP7u3ES5GB5osbEeDACKgB/s320/IMG_3463.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n8YU6dAjzvs/WQAcWvUC9QI/AAAAAAAARXU/Ohtefq8u_rUre7FVBnAnmvgKYGfLJouuwCKgB/s1600/IMG_3458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n8YU6dAjzvs/WQAcWvUC9QI/AAAAAAAARXU/Ohtefq8u_rUre7FVBnAnmvgKYGfLJouuwCKgB/s320/IMG_3458.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But we got to see MORE AWESOME FRIENDS!</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ysDI5bWqSBg/WR89hhA85gI/AAAAAAAARYg/SZTlL0ShHBADAr1ELurPfxzLZHTWyfNFwCLcB/s1600/17498616_10154151195781256_1627947040690656448_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ysDI5bWqSBg/WR89hhA85gI/AAAAAAAARYg/SZTlL0ShHBADAr1ELurPfxzLZHTWyfNFwCLcB/s320/17498616_10154151195781256_1627947040690656448_n.jpg" width="293" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Day 9: After a few days of fun in the bay we decided we'd play in the giant trees.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nyhMTMqY6r0/WQAcWsEwigI/AAAAAAAARXU/rGU15pfen-kRzPNIpQrCUD-NgFIclZa9QCKgB/s1600/IMG_3497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nyhMTMqY6r0/WQAcWsEwigI/AAAAAAAARXU/rGU15pfen-kRzPNIpQrCUD-NgFIclZa9QCKgB/s320/IMG_3497.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xx8UHe3SEXs/WR898f0x-wI/AAAAAAAARYk/jJsVH5ylZ_cxOkZkzwbiRy183luk-LiBQCLcB/s1600/17523655_10212557620275495_6270542657882648859_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xx8UHe3SEXs/WR898f0x-wI/AAAAAAAARYk/jJsVH5ylZ_cxOkZkzwbiRy183luk-LiBQCLcB/s320/17523655_10212557620275495_6270542657882648859_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--kJM04YQgkA/WR8-BP9-DcI/AAAAAAAARYo/mgpsqa4yDP8GUpNoxwQ2eGvVpFE-qcQ7gCLcB/s1600/17425814_10154153385946256_7568775305224697363_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--kJM04YQgkA/WR8-BP9-DcI/AAAAAAAARYo/mgpsqa4yDP8GUpNoxwQ2eGvVpFE-qcQ7gCLcB/s320/17425814_10154153385946256_7568775305224697363_n.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I really love giant trees.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1wt4JCildk0/WR8-JopBr7I/AAAAAAAARYs/Rz-YPzgxhFUc7xkEPzmRkqU-__NwghLmQCLcB/s1600/17498767_10154152682986256_5378573950256493798_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1wt4JCildk0/WR8-JopBr7I/AAAAAAAARYs/Rz-YPzgxhFUc7xkEPzmRkqU-__NwghLmQCLcB/s320/17498767_10154152682986256_5378573950256493798_n.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I also love driving through them.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Last Day: We decided to spend the night just across the Oregon border and head to Crater Lake for our last stop in the morning. Emilee has always wanted to see it and so far Craters had been very, VERY good to us. &nbsp;We woke up to snow. 60 miles from the lake we journeyed on. The snow got deeper but we got more determined. Finally we reached the stop.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fhgBgHZeaaE/WQAcWr6Y02I/AAAAAAAARXU/QuNk1JXHWlEdPlbm1JASDqxaqlG06eCMgCKgB/s1600/IMG_3548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fhgBgHZeaaE/WQAcWr6Y02I/AAAAAAAARXU/QuNk1JXHWlEdPlbm1JASDqxaqlG06eCMgCKgB/s320/IMG_3548.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And, we missed it.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So we headed East towards home. We were happy, tired, wide-eyed and not sure if missing our bed was enough for us to end our adventure. But, worked called.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0OyhAXbMw-0/WQAcWh3GQtI/AAAAAAAARXU/UFK0IoqsHwobT10axe7MIMDILXoeAZSHACKgB/s1600/IMG_3559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0OyhAXbMw-0/WQAcWh3GQtI/AAAAAAAARXU/UFK0IoqsHwobT10axe7MIMDILXoeAZSHACKgB/s320/IMG_3559.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">2500 miles later I was engaged to my dream girl, a little fatter, a lot happier and the proud owner of a tiny sequoia. I went to places that I thought I'd see once and be happy but we learned they are places we're going to visit over and over.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">For the rest of our stupid, happy lives.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-9758904952441025292017-02-21T11:30:00.001-08:002017-02-21T11:32:57.186-08:00A-holes named Kevin Plencner and Nicholas Green stole from me, and many othersPeople steal on the internet.<br /><br /><i>I'm sorry, lemme change that.&nbsp;</i><br /><br />Complete assholes steal from the internet.<br /><br />Recently I had a few of my Burning Man photos used for various other things. A record cover, a mock ad, a few Instagram pics claiming they were in the pics, and a shitty trash-rag called the Downtown Underground out of Las Vegas.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--WDyl91Bw2Y/WKyT9kKJmgI/AAAAAAAAROI/8FhnGGPOqxYSHZQVHdi1L9vWYPsndxFQQCLcB/s1600/tumblr_odb5taunxh1vfeo7no1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--WDyl91Bw2Y/WKyT9kKJmgI/AAAAAAAAROI/8FhnGGPOqxYSHZQVHdi1L9vWYPsndxFQQCLcB/s320/tumblr_odb5taunxh1vfeo7no1_1280.jpg" width="247" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mM5LPWKosHQ/WKyT9sIp0oI/AAAAAAAAROQ/WsdqNnS96nAaPXiJeJuKG7zNCq8R4G2IQCLcB/s1600/tumblr_odb5sq5uon1vfeo7no1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mM5LPWKosHQ/WKyT9sIp0oI/AAAAAAAAROQ/WsdqNnS96nAaPXiJeJuKG7zNCq8R4G2IQCLcB/s320/tumblr_odb5sq5uon1vfeo7no1_1280.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EU0tHpBien4/WKyT9pa2DqI/AAAAAAAAROM/ix9AWlmdpSIaRFfQqhK97r-NXBBedHHJACLcB/s1600/tumblr_odb6l7LTET1vfeo7no1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EU0tHpBien4/WKyT9pa2DqI/AAAAAAAAROM/ix9AWlmdpSIaRFfQqhK97r-NXBBedHHJACLcB/s320/tumblr_odb6l7LTET1vfeo7no1_1280.jpg" width="248" /></a></div><br /><br />I reached out to the editor who claimed the author of the story submitted my photo with her work. So I quickly reached out to the author who let me know that was impossible since they never used her article. They told her "Thanks but not thanks". &nbsp;I linked her to the piece and to her shock, they used it after all. It was a clear attempt to not have to pay her knowing no one would ever read their crappy magazine. They stole from her too.<br /><br />I went back to the editor who told me he was shocked and would research it. I then learned their graphic artist was never paid as well. It seems everyone they came in contact with, was stiffed.<br /><br /><i>Dicks</i>.<br /><br />After I threatened legal action the asshole editor <b>Kevin Plencner</b> assured me he'd send me a check right away. Days went by and my initial thought that this was a lie, was true.<br /><br />I called a phone number that was listed on their Facebook page. A woman answered and went on to tell me how she used to work for them but since they stopped paying her... yeah... you get the point.<br /><br />People like this are the worst. Parasites who steal your creativity can die in a fire. Kevin Plencner is a failed real estate agent <a href="http://articles.chicagotribune.com/1990-10-18/news/9003270448_1_suit-consumer-fraud-fairway-group" target="_blank">who after many lawsuit</a>, and running away from Illinois to Vegas, is attempting to start another unneeded rag in Las Vegas. He's going to do it on the shoulders of people like me, never pay them a penny, and leave a wake of trash and lawsuits.<br /><br />Don't be Kevin Plencner.<br /><br /><br />Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-28709494272393140632017-02-01T10:29:00.000-08:002017-02-03T09:44:59.170-08:00What Do You Do When You Realize Your Childhood Friends Are Racist, Hateful Idiots<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BECpD3CmxMY/WJIlELE0oxI/AAAAAAAARNA/u9W1b7_eIO8q9ViXyDXJle9CQSZJkuxgwCLcB/s1600/1448516005_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BECpD3CmxMY/WJIlELE0oxI/AAAAAAAARNA/u9W1b7_eIO8q9ViXyDXJle9CQSZJkuxgwCLcB/s400/1448516005_large.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />I spent my teens in a small town in California. It was a bit of an adjustment after my younger years in the outskirts of Los Angeles. Area was smaller, buildings were smaller, dreams were smaller. It was never a fit but I always did my best.<br /><br />I made good friends and cherished them for years. We had so many experiences to hold on to that we felt like our friendships would never end. For years they didn't.<br /><br />We skated through our 20's hitting up each other's weddings, follow up holiday visits, weekend getaways. We'd meet up and speak entirely in memories.<br /><br />We jogged through our 30's. Second weddings and scattered reunions. We'd still talk in memories mixed in with how hard it was to be a parent (we thought toddlers were as hard as it would get). We asked each other about that one friend who faded away. Wondered if anyone has managed to keep in touch with them. Eventually no one would and *POOF* they were gone.<br /><br />We staggered our way in to our 40's learning that vacations were now kid based and reunions were best kept via Facebook. It was also easier. I could see their entirely family grow from the comfort of my laptop in a Starbucks.<br /><br />But suddenly I saw other things too. Weird things that seemed so foreign to me. I witnessed them spending anniversaries at Red Lobster. I watched them express their excitement about TV night with Big Bang Theory. I read how they believed President Obama was a Muslim and how they knew he was sending America towards the end of the world.<br /><br />And to suddenly discovered... you have absolutely nothing in common with these barbarians.<br /><br />Never more than now have I ended so many friendships as I have in the last year. #ThanksObama. My best friends from high school, who I laughed and cried with for so many years, were... Republicans.<br /><br />And by Republicans, I mean the hateful ones. The ones who masturbated to Fox News and formed their uneducated opinions from inaccurate Memes. The ones who'd kill the person who came for their guns and would personally offer bricks from their homes to help build a wall. Full on horrific people. The people I've been fighting against my whole life. I just never realized it was them. I was blinded by friendship.<br /><br />This has been the year of fighting them. This week one of my best friends from high school, I mean... BEST FRIENDS... ridiculed me for participating in the #WomansMarch. He said that if I spent that time building a house for the homeless I'd be doing more good. I reminded him that he did neither and just harassed those who tried. His response was to unfriend me on Facebook. 30some years of friendship gone, because we realized at that moment we no longer had anything in common.<br /><br />I'll remind you that I went to school in California before I try to explain that a classmate with a confederate flag for his profile picture trolled every status I wrote for a week reminding me what a horrible person I was for supporting Hillary. I could write about my Dog and he'd tell me Hillary was the devil. I wished him a happy birthday and he told me how great Trump was. I had to block him on all social media as if we were 13 year old girls due to his inability to have any interaction without reminding me how much he valued a man who had no values.<br /><br />Yesterday a guy who graduated a few years after I had posted a fake news article detailing how Muslims were beheading thousands all over the globe. I commented how the article was fake and he was doing more damage than good spreading unwarranted fear. But, he didn't care. He was more concerned that it COULD happen and was angry I was calling him out. This was followed by a barrage of his right-wing friends attacking me for being a bleeding-heart liberal (I proudly am) and used insults on me until they felt they won the debate. You can't argue with hate. <br /><br />A girl who found God sometime after graduation spent all Facebook posts on her love for Jesus and Starbucks. The glory of this and the yummy of that. Jesus loves everyone, except for the Muslim that Obama nominated to be a Federal Judge. Suddenly our courts were going to be covered with tainted blood and our society was ending. When I asked her why this was such a bad thing I was reminded that Jesus would not do this. Apparently I knew more about Jesus than she did.<br /><br />Earlier this week a school mate, who I once admired, offered to fist fight me because I said we should stand up against Trump as long as we could. For this he wanted to hit me. I asked him why and he responded he was 100% happy with Trump. He couldn't give specifics other than he was going to support his candidate no matter what happens.<br /><i><b><br /></b></i><i><b>"I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn't lose voters." - Trump.&nbsp;</b></i><br /><i><b><br /></b></i>Those voters, it turns out, are the people I grew up with. The last year, an election year, has caused me to end over 20 friendships via social media. Alumni trolls who pop on to talk fake facts and harass me for having alternate opinions. Getting upset when I correct their logic and debating in pure memes. If I didn't drink from the same Koolaid from them, I was a terrorist and I hated American.<br /><br />I love America so it's that reason why my heart hurts so much.<br /><br />My childhood friends are almost all gone. I kept some, the good ones. They are just as passionate as I am about our future. They are educated and caring... and scared. So very scared.<br /><br />I hold on to these people tightly. Tighter than I ever have before. Because through each other we can get through this. Together we can protect ourselves from the hate-filled people we once called our friends in a country we used to call home.Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-32343526916290132372016-11-11T07:41:00.002-08:002016-11-11T07:41:45.072-08:00Not My President<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ie-VNYz-rUg/WCXmqh9ojWI/AAAAAAAARF4/C41s_ju5iJIhkWls1QL_0LUOomxzT2yAgCLcB/s1600/pence-trump-timeline-feed-fb-share.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="332" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ie-VNYz-rUg/WCXmqh9ojWI/AAAAAAAARF4/C41s_ju5iJIhkWls1QL_0LUOomxzT2yAgCLcB/s640/pence-trump-timeline-feed-fb-share.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />Via social media, people have been telling me to "get over it" after a skewed election of Donald Trump and Mike Pence. You might be okay with a Giant Orange Turd and a Gay Basher from the 1950s being elected, but I'm not. And here's why.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy who has singled out every Mexican as murderers and Rapists, or every Muslim as a terrorist and has decided to rid them from our nation. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy who has spent untold tax dollars trying to cut all rights to the LGBTQ community and believing you can pretty much "pray the gay away" (adapt or die). But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy who&nbsp;publicly mocked a reporter with a disability just because he disagreed with Trump's assessment of a story he had written. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy who holds women in such poor regards that he publicly discusses how he can have his way with them in a manner most of us would deem sexual assault. Then others he can publicly call&nbsp;"pigs", "dogs," "slobs" and "disgusting animals" when they call him out. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy who believes the Earth is 6000 years old, denies evolution and wants nothing more than the combination of church and state. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy&nbsp;who inherited his wealth from a father who inherited his money from his Nazi loving father. Yet today most of his money comes by way of his celebrity, not his business "smarts". Has filed bankruptcy multiple times and has left a trail of failed endeavors. Leaving several workers unpaid. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy&nbsp;who has more than a dozen women claiming sexual assault, even a 13 year old girl who was going to take him to court over rape charges until she backed out due to death threats. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy&nbsp;who a guy who looks at nuclear weapons as a source of turmoil resolution. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy who has Russia on speed dial. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy who said&nbsp;“Laziness is a trait in the blacks… Black guys counting my money! I hate it.”. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy who said&nbsp;“He’s not a war hero. He’s a war hero because he was captured. I like people that weren’t captured, OK, I hate to tell you.”. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy who is looking to coal as a solution while saying&nbsp;“The concept of global warming was created by and for the Chinese in order to make U.S. manufacturing non-competitive.”. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a guy who marries attractive women, only interested in his wealth, as he cheats on them... leaves them and marries another. Washes hands... repeats. But I'm not.<br /><br />You might be okay with a giant orange turd and a homophobic ass muncher running our country. But I'm not.Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-46566909332721627542016-09-07T11:22:00.000-07:002016-09-07T11:22:32.072-07:00There's A Coffee Place Called Dutch Bros That Might Be The Worst Place On The Planet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ligvva6V3aQ/V8XWUERcjSI/AAAAAAAAQn0/WmcPCNYImtoT6zLdCj6SbBQ0DGu3ZxNdACLcB/s1600/08.04-DUTCH-BROS-800x450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ligvva6V3aQ/V8XWUERcjSI/AAAAAAAAQn0/WmcPCNYImtoT6zLdCj6SbBQ0DGu3ZxNdACLcB/s400/08.04-DUTCH-BROS-800x450.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>If you've been in the Western States, there's a good chance you've heard of Dutch Bros' Coffee. They are blue and white drive thru locations scattered around parking lots and empty fields next to Del Tacos near you. <br /><br />They sell coffee in many little fluffy flavors crafted by a 20-somethings who have been give a fairly direct job description. <br /><br />DRY HUMP YOUR CUSTOMERS, GIVE THEM COFFEE <br /><br />To be blunt, it's pretty gross. Not the coffee, but the process of getting the coffee. Backtracking, I love coffee. I drink it most of the day. Wait, I FUCKING LOVE COFFEE. It's the best, Jerry... the best. I also love treating myself to super gooey $5 coffees from various locations. I give in often to corporate assbaggery by heading to Starbucks on the weekend. Often with our Newfoundland Tonka in tow who gets ooh'd and awe'd by the moderately professional employees who look just as uncomfortable small-talking me as I am returning it. <br /><br />When I drive to work, I don't pass a Starbucks, I pass a Dutch Bros. The Starbucks adds another mile to my commute. But when I need a caffeinated beverage for the road, I take that trek. Because I just can't stomach the weirdness of getting a Dutch Bros coffee. <br /><br />I'll cut to the awkward chase. It's starts simple, you pick one of the drive-thrus and approach. You're alerted by the latest Justin Bieber song blasting from their little building. You assume the barista knows the driver of the car in front of them by the amount of interaction going on. In most part, the barista is hanging out the building almost falling through the driver's window. She laughs, loud enough to almost block out the bieb... almost. <br /><br />You finally get up to the window and a young girl, wearing very little, pours out of the window. <br /><br />"HI!" <br /><br />"Hi." <br /><br />"Are you having a great morning?" <br /><br />You aren't sure exactly what she said due to the loud music combined with the gaggle of other baristas dancing and screaming giggles at each other. <br /><br />"I'm sorry, what?" <br /><br />"I asked if you're having a great morning" <br /><br />Replaying the 2 hours of it in my head. "Yeah." <br /><br />"That's great! So great! What can I get you?" <br /><br />It's an awkward interaction. To the point where you think Chris Hanson is going to pop up and start asking you questions. <br /><br />She verbally throws your order to another over-animated employee then turns to you. <br /><br />"So what are you doing today?" <br /><br />"Just going to work." <br /><br />"Oh great! What do you do?" <br /><br />"I work in advertising" <br /><br />"Oh that's so much fun. What do you advertise?" <br /><br />"Oh, well. Quite a few things. One of our clients is..." <br /><br />She interrupted by a fellow employee who wanted to let her know 'their' song is on, and they all start dancing. <br /><br />She returns "So doing anything fun today?" <br /><br />"No. Nothing at all" <br /><br />"That sounds like fun!" <br /><br />She resumes dancing and says something about liking my car. I now pretend I have to check my phone. I start to text my girlfriend, reminding her I love her because I feel like there's a weird line being crossed. Like, I'll strip for Mocha. <br /><br /><i>I feel dirty. Please just give me my coffee. </i><br /><br />"Here's your drink!" <br /><br />I quickly grab it, placing my car in drive as I do. But then there's that weird smell. The smell of... flesh. Flesh burning off the palm of my hand. <br /><br />"Mother of God! It's scorching hot! Do you have a sleeve?" <br /><br />"Nope." <br /><br />"Ummm, okay. But it's super hot." <br /><br />"We can double cup it." <br /><br />Double cup? Add to the demise of the environment more than I already am? Help kill a baby dolphin? <br /><br />Ugh, I can't do that? Can I? Should I just be more of a man? Deal with the pain like my Father would have?<br /><br />"Sure, double cup it." <br /><br />I place my coffee in my cup holder and I drive away. I feel dirty, used, a few other emotions I'm not used to. I not only feel bad, but I feel bad for the people who work there. It's clear that it's part of their job description. MAKE THE MIDDLE AGED GUY FEEL PRETTY. They don't like it anymore than I do. They can't hand me a coffee and think "I hope he saw how interested I was in him. I'm never like that with other customers. Maybe we'll get married someday!" <br /><br />See, the whole process is just gross. It's a company who asks their employees to dry hump their customers to increase sales. Why? Who does this? After a little research I found a bit of the reason in this thinking. I learned their CEO, Travis Boersma, is a 40something year old guy who wears his baseball cap backwards. <br /><br />The type of guy who goes into a Hooters and thinks every waitress was hitting on him. <br /><br />So now, 3 years after going to my first Dutch Bros, I occasionally run across their card with 8 stamps on it hiding in my center console. I don't throw it away "just in case" but deep down I don't see me getting my free coffee from them anytime soon. <br /><br />I'd rather have my awkward smalltalk from Starbucks. <br /><br /><br />Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-38628393893079963022016-06-08T07:49:00.002-07:002016-06-08T07:49:43.292-07:00Filming has begun <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T8JQ6PSOGsg/V1gwWsN2uJI/AAAAAAAAQAU/M4uAp6RF9C4kE6a34dUp6doMOHxa-J9cACLcB/s1600/13312604_10153412813601256_3601016890973180862_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T8JQ6PSOGsg/V1gwWsN2uJI/AAAAAAAAQAU/M4uAp6RF9C4kE6a34dUp6doMOHxa-J9cACLcB/s400/13312604_10153412813601256_3601016890973180862_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />I've started filming my next film, and it's all filmy.<br /><br />So there's that.<br /><br />#mythhumpersBill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-35763104269702221812016-04-18T13:48:00.000-07:002016-04-18T13:48:07.906-07:00Watch Ghostumentary Online Via Amazon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uYlc2dR8UNQ/VxE5wIdbfpI/AAAAAAAAOt4/QY65pWLswaIEs_GCuv4KbqSuN0l7tdBpgCLcB/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-04-15%2Bat%2B12.57.38%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uYlc2dR8UNQ/VxE5wIdbfpI/AAAAAAAAOt4/QY65pWLswaIEs_GCuv4KbqSuN0l7tdBpgCLcB/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-04-15%2Bat%2B12.57.38%2BPM.png" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Pretty much one year today we started filming Ghostumentary, and now... it's online. It was a debate what to do with it. We sent it out to a couple of the bigger Film Festivals, each one giving us the nicest letter saying "We love it, we don't know what to do with it."<br /><div><br /></div><div>Then we talked to a few distribution companies but each really wanted to limit an audience and roll the dice in specific markets.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>We came to the conclusion that we really wanted as many eyes as possible on it. So, let's just put it online.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>So, here it is.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>First, it's on Amazon. So if you're looking to rent something... here you go.&nbsp;</div><div><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ghostumentary-Unavailable/dp/B01DWQOZUE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1460746555&amp;sr=8-1&amp;keywords=ghostumentary" target="_blank"><br /></a></div><div><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Ghostumentary-Unavailable/dp/B01DWQOZUE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1460746555&amp;sr=8-1&amp;keywords=ghostumentary" target="_blank">Ghostumentary on Amazon</a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-73376198043321941062016-03-30T12:10:00.000-07:002016-04-07T03:06:10.072-07:00Is Boba Fett the Absolute WORST Character in Star Wars? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e5hQr9jh0Lw/VvwjKUq0LTI/AAAAAAAAOQI/lk3Wk-9eh9QObaX5ko8xbdbqu77k5nnTQ/s1600/boba_pose_by_urkalee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e5hQr9jh0Lw/VvwjKUq0LTI/AAAAAAAAOQI/lk3Wk-9eh9QObaX5ko8xbdbqu77k5nnTQ/s400/boba_pose_by_urkalee.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />First off, you're going to hate reading this post as much as I hate writing it. It's because my favorite character in the Star Wars universe had ALWAYS been Boba Fett. It was my favorite toy growing up. I used to write personal fan-fiction stories about him as well and hide them under my bed so my brothers wouldn't find them a ridicule me.<br /><br />I've always kept a close eye on him through life. I sat a little taller when he came on the screen. He was my guy. So this is why it was so painful to notice a few things over the years that made me realize that he may be the worse character in the Star Wars story itself.<br /><br />Here's why.<br /><br />Let's talk about when we first see Boba Fett (before Lucas screwed up on the second round of edits). He's on board Darth Vader's ship among other Bounty Hunters. Oh wait... no... not true. He actually was first seen animated in the dreaded Star Wars Holiday Special.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/UC2Q6ANLXQ0" width="640"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">He rides a dinosaur, but basically verbally and physically abuses them. Not cool man, not cool. When he's discovered to be bad, he runs away from a group of unarmed rebels.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So NOW we're back on the Empire. He has one job, get Han Solo by the orders of Darth Vader. But wait, he already had this job for Jabba the Hutt. So now we have a guy who's double dipping bounty rewards. What a dick. Right?&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Mark... set... go... he's off to find them. How does he do this? He hangs out in the garbage. Seems creepy but, alright. Han and the gang take off, he follows quietly all the way to Bespin. Boba is known as&nbsp;one of the galaxy's deadliest bounty hunters, and he proves is by calling for back up when he gets to Cloud City. Instead of getting Han alone, he alerts the Empire to do it for him. Essentially only qualifying for a finders fee. But who am I to butt in.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Side note, how did the Empire beat Han to Bespin? Did anyone do the math there? This leads me to my next theory where Lobot is Snoke... don't get me started.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So, Darth Vader captures everyone, Boba watches and in return gets to take off with Han for a very undeserved reward. Boba is like that one guy at your job that watches everyone work, then takes all the credit.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We enter the next episode and we're in Jabba's lair. Essentially it's hanging out in a friend's basement because he has all the pot. Boba thrives. He walks around in his&nbsp;Mandalorian armor talking to alien chicks about his days of glory.&nbsp;Mandalorian armor that if you look at, really doesn't fit him very well. It's like the first time you wear your dad's jacket and your hands don't poke through the sleeves. What does he weigh? A buck twenty five?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Leia sneaks in and is in disguise, threatens everyone and Boba gives a nod. Essentially saying "I appreciate you not talking off your helmet, so I don't have to either."</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Can you imaging the musk in there? It's like hot-sick dug up from a musty-stump at Endor.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Now we're in the desert, still latched on to Jabba in a desperate attempt to be accepted, rides bitch on the barge. All hell breaks loose and bam...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Fett gets rammed from behind and finds his jet pack has activated. So here's where I really find him to be a little bitch. Have you never flown with it before? I mean, your dad fought off Obi-Wan Kenobi with it, you act as if you just found a spider in your sock drawer. You scream like a 3 year old girl and land in the&nbsp;sarlacc pit. To die a thousand deaths or something bitchy.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0DDz7wk00rA/VvwjQzGSsfI/AAAAAAAAOQM/yuzM26dUsj4Od30ZHiXNG3871_Tqud1VA/s1600/boba_fett__s_death_by_j_castaneda-d3j3b9p.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0DDz7wk00rA/VvwjQzGSsfI/AAAAAAAAOQM/yuzM26dUsj4Od30ZHiXNG3871_Tqud1VA/s320/boba_fett__s_death_by_j_castaneda-d3j3b9p.png" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">At least your Dad battling Jedi, you fell prey to a pothole in the sand.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So, with a heavy-heart I spew out the thought that Boba Fett was truly the worst character in the Star Wars Universe.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Let your&nbsp;anger flow through your comments.&nbsp;</div>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8307242155282973278.post-62968683244383975112016-02-16T13:23:00.000-08:002016-02-16T13:23:52.847-08:009 Whole Minutes of our Movie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8ysWBGHZfLU/VsOTXCk_YGI/AAAAAAAANvQ/d6tztWIOQ7w/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-02-16%2Bat%2B2.22.58%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8ysWBGHZfLU/VsOTXCk_YGI/AAAAAAAANvQ/d6tztWIOQ7w/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-02-16%2Bat%2B2.22.58%2BPM.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br />The final score is being put in place, but why wait to see a chunk. Right? Here's 9 minutes from our investigation in Gooding, Idaho.<br /><br />Check it out and stuff.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/svI7OxHv8oA" width="640"></iframe>Bill Dotyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01516765330586354160noreply@blogger.com0